#minewtnetwork

The only silver lining was the fact that he at least could go down to the company fitness room and simmer down on a treadmill. And man, did he need that right now.

The business man smoothly slipped out of the jacket of his suit, throwing it almost carelessly onto his chair. One of the perks of having an albeit small office all to himself was that he could get changed here and not in the common locker room. He liked his colleagues, he really did…most of them anyways. But he didn’t like them enough to get down into that eighth layer of hell, not in a hundred years.

Minho, still lost in thoughts, was unbuttoning his shirt, when he suddenly heard knocking.

It didn’t come from the door.

Frowning in confusion, Minho turned to the window, bright and as high and long as the room, and was surprised to see dark brown eyes looking back at him.

The face belonging to those eyes was…really fucking pretty. High cheekbones, thin lips curled up into a mocking smile and those sparkling chestnut eyes, all of it framed by messy blond hair.

Then, Minho realized he was standing there half undone, his shirt open and everything, and because his patience had been strained enough already today, he acted before he thought over it.

With three steps, he had walked across the room and torn open the section of the window the man was behind.

He slammed his hands onto the windowsill and leaned forward, towards him. “What the hell are you doing here?? Enjoy playing peeping Tom?!”

In the three seconds it took the other man to blink confused, smirk cynically and answer “What does it bloody look like, you genius?”, Minho noticed a few things, like the harness and straps attached to the blond man, the squeegee in his hand and the fact that they were actually in the twenty-fifth floor of the building. All of that combined did not leave a lot of possibilities as to what this guy was doing, literally hanging outside his office window.

“…you’re cleaning the window.” Minho said tonelessly.

The other one actually laughed at his face. “Fancy fucking that. What did ya think I was doing? Didn’t you get the memo? I’d rather do my job and not be pissed on a bloody jerk who doesn’t even throw a glance outside or – mind you – close the damn curtains before starting to strip in front of a fucking gigantic window. And then that idiot has the audacity to yell at me for something that was of no fault of mine! Seriously, mind your own bloody business!”

Minho…just stared for a few seconds.

Shit.

He really should learn to watch his mouth.

The businessman let out a puff of air he didn’t known he’d previously held in. “I’m…sincerely sorry. My day has not been particularly amazing and I let it out on you.”

The other guy huffed. “Yeah, my day has not been exactly sunshine and daisies either. Ain’t yelling at strangers for that though.”

Minho pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dude, I’m honestly sorry.”

His opponent smiled, and for some completely off reason, it made Minho’s day just a bit better.

“We all have these days.” the window cleaner said a lot calmer.

Minho looked at him for a second, and then stretched out a hand. “Minho Park.”The smile snuck back on the blond’s face as he shook it. “The name’s Isaac Ayscough. People call me Newt.”

Minho’s eyebrow jerked up. “They do?”

Newt raised an arm to put the squeegee into a bucket hanging from his side, and Minho couldn’t help but notice that, despite the other man being rather tall and lean, his arms were muscled and his hands calloused, used to work.

“Don’t ask.” he said, shaking his head over the nickname.

“I won’t.” Minho promised with a grin. “I’ll just accept that there are companies in New York who hire gigantic mutated amphibians to clean windows.”

Newt grinned and obviously wanted to retort with something teasing when a sudden gust of wind moved his Boatswain’s chair, catching both of them off guard.

He tipped forward, legs against the window, hands clinging onto the windowsill. Minho, at the same time, had surged forward, momentarily forgetting that Newt was secured with ropes and belts.

It left them in quite an awkward position. Their faces were barely centimetres away, and Minho could make out little specks of green in Newt’s brown eyes. He was very suddenly reminded that he had spent this whole conversation with an open shirt like a really watered down pimp. There was the feeling of Newt’s knuckles pressing against his lower abdomen and his breath brushing over his face.

For a few seconds, they stayed like that, neither of them moving a centimetre, and stared surprised into each other’s eyes. Then, Newt’s glance flicked down for just a moment, almost discreetly.

“…how do you want to un-awkward this again?” Minho then asked with a sly grin.

“I’d first button up that shirt. It would be five times less awkward already.” Newt answered, mirroring his smile.

He pushed himself away from the windowsill, and his fingers brushed for the blink of an eye over Minho’s skin.

The businessman felt his cheeks heat up, but he still had his quick tongue. “Making you uncomfortable?”

Newt laughed. “Making me rather insecure than uncomfortable, to be frank.”

Minho blushed even harder at the compliment.

Before he could try to respond to this ridiculously quick-witted, ridiculously handsome guy, a voice interrupted him.

“Newt, are you alright?? You’ve been glued to that one window for five minutes now!”

The window washer looked up to wherever the voice might’ve come from, and rolled his eyes. “’m fine, Alby, don’t worry!”

“Then get your ass to work!” the other window washer – Alby? – yelled back, but Minho could hear the smile in the man’s voice.

“I will!” Newt called and flashed Minho an apologetic grin. “I gotta actually clean this window now…so if you could kindly close it for me not to get cut off by my partner and plummet down to my untimely death, I’d really appreciate it.”

Minho snickered. “I’ll even close the curtains this time.”

“You are the single most attentive guy I’ve ever met.” Newt said mockingly.

The businessman winked, and Newt’s smile deepened.

“Ayscough! Work! Now! You can still flirt after quitting time!” Alby interfered yet again.

Newt’s face flushed.

“Yeah. When do you get off work anyways?” Minho asked, recognizing an opportunity when it offered itself.

Newt looked at him for a long moment before smiling. “Six.”

“Half past six, then, at ‘Frypan’s’? You know, the café just down the street?” Minho said almost too quickly.

Newt grinned. “Sure. Till then, I guess. I really gotta hurry, or Alby’s gonna bottle me up.”

“Okay.” Minho answered and simply shut the window, leaving the cleaner to laugh at him outside.

Newt grimaced at him as he drew the curtains, and Minho couldn’t help but smile fondly as he turned away.